


three is the strongest number

by kissteethstainred



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Confusion, Crack, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, but also this is one hundred percent serious . . . but also this is crack, love triangles in the best way!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 10:59:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6751291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissteethstainred/pseuds/kissteethstainred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy has crush on Miller, and Miller returns that crush but also wants to date Monty, who has a crush on Miller but is also talking to Bellamy.</p><p>And that's what you missed on Glee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	three is the strongest number

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gmontys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gmontys/gifts).



> this is all zoe's fault i swear to GOD i would've never written it but she pressured me and this happened. this is equally the greatest thing i've ever written and also the most indulgent thing i've ever written, so. 
> 
> all i'm gonna say is: monty/miller is the greatest thing ever, miller/bellamy are in love either platonically or romantically, and s3 was FULL of bellamy/monty. this fic had to happen eventually

Bellamy enters their dorm room when Miller’s about to leave, which ends in them bumping right into each other. 

Bellamy apologizes before he takes in Miller’s outfit. His eyebrows raise. “Wow. You look nice.”

The words are equally the worst and best thing of Miller’s life: good because he’s about to go on a date and he has been trying on different outfits for the last thirty minutes and he’s glad to know his attempts worked, bad because he’s going on a date to get over his crush on Bellamy and Bellamy telling him he looks good is _not helping_. 

“Thanks,” Miller says, moving back when Bellamy walks further into the room. The doorway is surrounded by their closets, so there isn’t actually much room for them to fit, and Bellamy has to squeeze by.

“What’s the special occasion?”

“I’m going on a date,” Miller says.

“Oh.” Bellamy looks confused, and Miller honestly feels a little insulted. He can get a date, alright? He’s got as much game as Bellamy, just not _with_ Bellamy. “With whom?” Bellamy asks, and Miller almost punches the mirror. Miller’s the English major and yet Bellamy never fails to differentiate _whom_ and _who_. 

“A guy I met in the LGBT club,” Miller says.

Bellamy throws him an amused look. “You actually went to one of those things?”

“Yes. I wanted to go on a date or get laid or _something_ ,” Miller says. He’s tired of being in that weird space with Bellamy, where they’re very close friends—best friends since they were assigned roommates, basically—but they always seem a touch over that _we’re friends/we’re dating_ line. 

Miller definitely needs this date.

Bellamy says, “So you are going on a date. Tonight.”

Miller rolls his eyes and says, “What the fuck is up with you, Bellamy? Am I not allowed to go on a date?”

“No, it’s just—” Bellamy makes an aborted noise and says in one rush, “I thought we were, I don’t know, flirting or something? Starting to like each other or getting somewhere or . . . something of the sort.” 

“ _What_.”

Bellamy doesn’t say anything, just stares resolutely at the floor.

Miller groans and leans against their door. “ _Bellamy_. Are you fucking— _I have a date in twenty minutes_.” 

“I _know_.”

“I’ve been trying to get over you! That’s what this date is for!”

“Listen, it’s fine. Go on the date. If you like the guy, that’s great. If you don’t—” Bellamy shrugs, his smile sheepish. “I guess . . . I’m still here.”

Miller can already feel a headache starting. “I mean, you always have that other guy, right? The one you said Raven knew.” _The guy I’ve been jealous of this entire time_ , Miller doesn’t say.

Bellamy sits down on his bed. “Yeah, I do. Now leave or you’ll look like shit in front of your date for being late.”

Miller glares at Bellamy and leaves the room, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists as he walks to Monty Green’s dorm.

\--

He and Monty Green bonded over the fact that they were both trying to get over someone; Miller just said, “I’m tired of lusting after my hot roommate,” and Monty laughed and said, “The guy I was seeing—but not dating—broke it off because he was interested in someone else and didn’t want to lead me on.” He shrugged. “And so here I am.”

They’d gotten drunk and commiserated about their shit love lives and sang shit karaoke (Miller sang shit karaoke; Monty actually has a very good singing voice and sounded wonderful), walked around campus for another hour to work the alcohol off, and it all ended in Monty asking Miller out on a date. Which Miller very readily said yes to. Monty had dimples and cheekbones he hadn’t stopped staring at, and he was smart as a whip and could sing. Miller was faintly a little in love already.

And extremely nervous, now, as he waits outside Monty’s dorm building.

Monty is waiting for him in the lobby, and he smiles when he sees Miller outside. He has _huge_ dimples, Miller thinks, and Miller is honestly so _weak_. 

“Ready?” Monty asks. 

Miller’s never been more ready for something in his entire life. “Fuck yes,” he says, and Monty laughs. When they walk down the block, Monty’s arm brushes against his the entire way there, like the promise of something more to come, like the promise of something new finally beginning.

And like Miller said: he’s never been more ready for that in his entire life. 

\--

Monty Green is the most perfect person he’s ever met.

Miller collapses onto his bed with a groan and says, “Oh, fuck.” 

Bellamy, who had previously been focused on his computer, looks over at him. “Good date?”

“The _best_ ,” Miller says. “He’s so funny and smart and attractive and—he has dimples, Bellamy, and his smile is the prettiest thing ever.”

“You’re already whipped.”

Miller shoves a pillow on his face. “I know. I know, but—fuck! He’s nearly perfect.”

“Nearly?”

“He has some strong opinions on movies and video games, so of course we had some, ah, very loud disagreements, but otherwise . . . perfect.”

Bellamy turns from his computer to look at Miller. “Did you kiss him?”

“No, I was too fucking scared.”

“Whipped _and_ pathetic, then,” Bellamy says with a laugh.

“You would be scared, too, asshole!” Miller sits up on the bed and starts undoing the buttons on his shirt. “But we agreed to meet up for another date, so. I think things are going to go really well.”

Bellamy says, “That’s great, Miller,” with complete sincerity, and Miller believes him. But later, when they’ve both changed and are lying down in bed, Miller wonders what it would have been like if Monty Green hadn’t been so perfect. If maybe the date had been okay, tepid at best, and he’d come home to tell Bellamy that—he’d come home to Bellamy’s smile and hands and mouth. Miller’s stomach flips.

Miller turns over to face the wall, his back to Bellamy. 

\--

The next date with Monty goes very well .

And the next date goes well, and the next date, and the next date—

Monty seems to get Miller’s humor just as well as Bellamy does, and he laughs with his whole body, eyes scrunching up and chest heaving and hands moving, and he’s not afraid to take Miller’s hand whenever he wants. He gets this soft look in his eyes when he looks at Miller and enjoys singing in public to make Miller embarrassed.

On the next date—or technically after the next date—when Miller drops Monty off at his dorm room, Miller lightly touches the corner of Monty’s jaw with his fingertips and kisses him. Monty hums into his mouth, which practically sends Miller to an early heart attack, and he uses a hand to draw Miller in closer. His other hand fumbles with his key, trying to open his dorm door, but it slips out of his hand and he gives up. 

“Someone will see,” Monty mutters between their mouths, half the words slurred by a kiss.

Miller pulls back and says, “I won’t give you long enough to—” Monty kisses him again, his hands curling around Miller’s shoulders, molding to them. “—open the door, it’s too much time not—” Monty’s tongue touches his and Miller feels it everywhere, heady with the taste of Monty and the soft noises he makes. “—spent kissing,” Miller finishes, and he presses Monty up against his door.

Miller’s thumb rubs back and forth against Monty’s jaw and it feels like their mouths are connected by the universe and everything with Monty has been going so well—

until Monty pulls back and says, “Miller, wait.”

Miller stops and gives Monty a couple inches of space, confused about the abruptness and Monty’s tone. Monty’s leaning against the door, his eyes closed, and he’s biting his lip. It’s very red and tempting.

“Everything okay?” Miller pauses. “Too fast?” he asks, even though it’s been five dates and all they’ve done so far is kissed.

Monty shakes his head, then says, “I feel like shit. God, I feel horrible.”

“I repeat: is everything okay?”

“Yes, it’s just.” Monty opens his eyes, and he actually looks nervous. Miller hasn’t seen that expression on Monty’s face since their first date. “Remember how I was seeing that guy and he sort of broke it off, and so I began seeing you?”

“Yes,” Miller says slowly.

“He’s kind of—he’s not back in the picture, and I haven’t done anything, but I still have feelings for him and—”

“Oh.” It’s quite amazing, Miller thinks, how quickly his stomach changes from fluttery with Monty’s kisses to dropping like a dead weight.

Monty looks crushed. “I’m sorry. I really like you. And I mean— _really_ like you. But this guy helped me through a really tough time after my father died, and we’re really close, emotionally, and I just—I want to be honest with you. I hated keeping his from you. I didn’t want you to think I was faking it or leading you on.”

Miller shakes his head, trying to control his feelings. He’s upset and angry and sad and desperately just wants to be kissing Monty again, but he forces it all down. 

“I’m sorry,” Monty says again, his voice miserable.

“It’s fine.” Then Miller sighs. “Okay, it’s not, but I understand. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a crush on my roommate anymore, but I just . . . I liked you a lot too.” Monty still looks upset, so Miller takes his hand and squeezes it. “We both knew we were shit at love when we entered this, remember? That’s how we bonded.”

That gets Monty to smile, which makes Miller feel marginally better. “I know. And I thought we could work. No, I mean: we _do_ work. And we _would_ work. But I want to give you everything, not what parts of me I have for you, you know?” 

Miller nods. “I get it.” And he really does, with everything with Bellamy, and so he forces himself to walk away and lets Monty walks away and gets out alcohol the second he gets back to his dorm. 

\--

Bellamy says, “It’s shit.”

“It’s very shit.”

“You seemed to really like him.”

“I didn’t just seem, I did. I _do_. And he really likes me too, it’s just—”

“The other guy.”

“The other guy,” Miller repeats, and he glances over at Bellamy. Bellamy is looking at him and quickly glances away when Miller looks his way. It’s strange to think that they’re both thinking the same thing—they’re also technically the other guy to each other—but they hold it back. 

“At least you’re doing well,” Miller says, “with that guy you were seeing before.” 

Miller reminds himself that he has no right to be jealous, since this was Bellamy only a few weeks ago. Bellamy wanted to be with Miller and Miller had been taken, and now it’s the opposite. Only Miller has felt like this _always_ with Bellamy, and so it’s quite frankly shit. 

Bellamy laughs. “It’s not like we’re dating or anything,” he says. “We’re just connecting again, you know? And it feels real.”

Miller does not want to hear this, but Bellamy lasted through Miller gushing about his and Monty’s perfect dates, so he’ll deal. Miller had never gone into specifics about Monty, considering it would basically be rubbing it into Bellamy’s face, and he’s thankful that Bellamy seems to be doing the same. 

“I’m just gonna give up on college,” Miller says. “Fuck it! Fuck it all. I never wanna be in a relationship again.”

“Is this where you convince yourself that you’re not a romantic?”

“Lowercase romantic? It’s fucking insulting that you’d even think that. Uppercase Romantic, as in the literary movement that emphasized the aesthetic of the past and nature and the primacy of the individual? It’s not my favorite. Although you know I love those Romantic poets.”

Bellamy says fondly, “You’re an idiot, but you’re a drunk idiot, so I’ll forgive you.”

“His _dimples_ , Bellamy.”

“It’s gonna be okay. Everything will smooth out in the end.”

“I’ve always thought love triangles were shit in literature and I can tell you it’s even fucking worse in real life.”

“Trust me, Nate, I know that too.”

“And the way he said my name. _God_.” Bellamy pats him on the shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry Bellamy, you’re still the only one who can call me Nate. You and you alone.”

“I’m honored,” Bellamy says, smiling softly. Bellamy is obviously beautiful, obvious to anyone who’s around him, but he only becomes more beautiful when you really get to know him. Miller should’ve known that it was inevitable that he’d fall for Bellamy. 

Alright, and Miller has seen him in various forms of nakedness, which definitely helps. Bellamy is fit. But Bellamy has also been there for all of Miller’s hardships and he knows Miller—he _wanted_ to know Miller, which is more than most people ever do—and Miller helped Bellamy through his family problems and his sexuality crisis and he knows Bellamy.

Miller had been helpless, really.

“When does life stop sucking,” Miller mutters.

“You’ve been reading too many dramas lately,” Bellamy says, and he shoves Miller down on the bed. “Sleep all this beer off. You’ll feel better about it.”

Miller decides that it’s very good advice indeed.

\--

“You know, it’s only been two minutes in my company and you’re already complaining,” Monroe says. “I’m honestly impressed.” 

Miller glares at her. “You never have any sympathy for my plights.”

Monroe snorts. “That’s fucking true.”

Miller came to their lunch meeting prepared to talk about his situation: he woke up to Bellamy getting out of the shower, only in a towel, and it had basically made the morning amazing and horrible, and on his way to getting lunch with Monroe and Harper, he’d run straight into Monty. They’d stuttered and blushed around each other until Miller excused himself.

Harper says, “Remember when Monroe complained about the fact that she got into U of A as well as Arkadia University? And she had to choose between the two best schools in the region? That’s what you sound like right now.”

Miller throws up his hands. “If I was choosing between them, it would be a different story. Neither of them want me!”

Harper and Monroe exchange a glance. “From what it sounds like, both of them want you,” Monroe says, “they just didn’t choose you.”

“Wow. _Thank_ you, I feel so much better.”

“Now you know what it’s like to talk to you, sunshine,” Harper says cheerily, then goes to collect their food as their number is called.

Monroe and Miller narrow their eyes at each other, assessing and comparing each other mentally. They are similar, Miller thinks, with the going by the last name and the police officer family background and the gayness and their personalities. 

“If you really think we’re that similar,” Miller says when Harper returns with the food, “then you’re basically saying you’re dating me.”

Monroe mimics gagging and Harper scrunches up her nose. 

“That was insulting,” Monroe says.

“Your girlfriend brought it up!”

“You’re moody today,” Harper says, a smear of sauce left over on her mouth after biting into her burger.

Miller points a fry at her. “I was explaining why I was moody today before Monroe complained about me complaining.” 

Monroe and Harper give each other shit-eating grins, and Miller rolls his eyes. 

“I’m gonna shove these fries down your throat.”

“Not as threatening as you think, and we’d say we’re sorry but you’re so easy to rile up,” Harper says.

“Then I’ll shove them up your ass,” Miller returns. “And please, for the love of your dearest friend Miller, don’t refer to yourselves as the couple _we_. I’m still bitterly alone and loveless.” 

“We’ll consider it,” Monroe says in an innocent voice.

Miller groans. 

\--

The reason that he hates love triangles is that it’s just so fucking stupid and unlikely that two people like the same person and that one person would be caught between them. 

And yet.

Here he is, completely torn between two people because he likes them both way too much. And they do like him back, but he doesn’t know who he’d choose if he’d ever had to choose between them. So he’s thankful for that, but every other moment is just torturous.

He forces himself to ask after Bellamy’s love life, and he replies that it’s going “Good” with no obvious enthusiasm but no sadness either. Miller wants to press Bellamy about it and yet doesn’t want to press him at all. 

He goes to another LGBT club event later in the week, since it seemed to work well for him last time, but Monty is there as well. Miller doesn’t want to leave just because Monty is there, but it’s pointless to be there anyway, since his gaze keeps getting drawn back to Monty. Monty leans against the bar with some dark-haired girl Miller doesn’t recognize, laughing and talking quietly with her as they watch the students performing on stage. Occasionally, Monty will meet Miller’s eyes and smile softly, his smile warm and inviting. He’s just as beautiful as when he and Miller were together, and Miller wants nothing more than to kiss him. 

He leaves after finishing his one beer, knowing that if he stayed, he would only down them until Monty was gone. And who knows how long that would’ve been.

He returns to his dorm, shaking his head at himself and muttering, “This is only temporary, this is only temporary,” as he walks. 

Bellamy’s reading one of his grossly large history textbooks when Miller enters, and Bellamy raises his eyebrows at Miller’s obvious frustration.

“You okay?” he asks. 

“No,” Miller says, flopping down on his bed. He’s done that a lot lately, and he’s rethinking what Bellamy’s said about him being dramatic lately. He peers over at Bellamy, who has his glasses pushed up on his head. _Honestly_. First Monty and now _this_. 

Bellamy gives a _go on_ motion with his finger even though his attention is on his book. 

“The guy that basically broke up with me,” Miller says, waiting for Bellamy to nod. When Bellamy does, he continues, “He was at the event tonight.”

Bellamy winces, looking up from his book. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I mean, I honestly should’ve expected it, since that’s where Monty and I _met_ , and—” Miller stops when Bellamy’s history book snaps shut. It’s a large book, and its closure results in a large noise in the room. Bellamy’s looking at Miller like Miller’s announced he’s moving into a hobbit hole.

“What?”

“Did you just say _Monty_?” 

“Ye—es,” Miller says hesitatingly. “Why?”

“Monty _Green_?”

“Yes, that’s—” Now Miller’s the one giving Bellamy a weird look. “Do you know him?”

Bellamy starts laughing. “Yeah, I fucking know him. The guy I was seeing before I was interested in you? Or—I guess the guy I’m supposed to be seeing now? That’s Monty Green.”

Miller stares at him with disbelief. He knows he’s gaping, but there’s no way that’s possible. 

“Monty Green is the guy I was seeing for the last couple of weeks,” Miller tells him. “We’re both dating Monty Green?”

Bellamy shrugs. “I’m not dating him.”

“ _I’m_ not dating him.” 

They continue to stare at each other before Miller says, incredulity still dominating his emotions, “Okay, I’m sorry, but I have to clarify something. You and Monty met when you helped him after his father died?”

“Yeah, when things got bad with Octavia and my parents I went to a support group—”

“Offered by the school,” Miller finishes, because he did help Bellamy through his family problems too. “And you and Monty began . . .”

Bellamy shrugs again, a small smile on his face. “We got along well, and it wasn’t really dating, but it was . . . comfort. And we liked each other, but after a while I realized I liked you more.”

Miller wants to bang his head against a wall. “So you told him you were going to pursue another dude— _me_ —and didn’t want to lead him on, so you broke it off. After that, Monty goes to that LGBT club meeting because you broke it off at the same time that—”

“—that you get tired of crushing on me, so you go to the meeting as well,” Bellamy says. “You go on a date with Monty and begin to see him, not knowing that I technically broke up with him for _you_.” 

“Monty and I date and I tell you to go back to your old fling while I date Monty. Your old fling _is_ Monty, and he dumps me because you guys are talking again and he’s beginning to have feelings for you again.”

Bellamy and Miller stare at each other again, this time in amazement instead of incredulity. 

Then Bellamy says, “And now none of us are dating each other.”

“I mean,” Miller starts, then says, “That’s not exactly a hard thing to solve.”

“What do you want us to do, pick hats? Favorites? Have one hundred people take a survey and vote on who they want to be together out of the three of us?”

Miller laughs, laughs so hard his stomach starts aching and his can feel tears smarting in his eyes. “Bellamy, man, you are so not thinking about this right,” he says, his hand clutching at his aching stomach. “We all like each other. You and Monty, and Monty and I, and you and me. _We all like each other_.”

Miller can see the words dawn on Bellamy because his expression changes from one of slightly confusion to realization, his mouth opening slightly. Bellamy smiles, and he looks about as giddy as Miller feels. 

“Three’s the lucky number, isn’t?”

Miller grins back at him. “Third time’s a charm.” 

“We— _Nate_ , we have to tell Monty.”

Bellamy’s already standing as if to leave the dorm, but Miller manages to stop him with a “Bellamy, _wait_ ,” and a hand to Bellamy’s arm. Bellamy thankfully stops and Miller says, “Look, it’s almost midnight. We can invite Monty over tomorrow and ask him about it, yeah? Otherwise it’ll seem like he’ll be intimidated into dating us.”

Bellamy nods and sits back down on his bed, but he looks up at Miller after a moment. Miller’s heartbeat increases at the long, speculative look Bellamy gives Miller. 

“I like how you said _dating us_ ,” Bellamy says, “when technically, we’re the only pair that hasn’t dated before.”

Miller’s mouth goes dry. “That . . . is also a problem that’s not hard to solve.”

“Not hard to solve at all,” Bellamy says, and he leans forward and kisses Miller hard on the mouth. The intensity of the kiss forces Miller back, but he manages to curl his hands in Bellamy’s hair and hold onto the kiss for dear life.

When they pull apart, Miller dazedly thinks, _Thank God Bellamy Blake has always been a man of action_.

Bellamy is still staring at his mouth. He says, “Should I, uh, do that again—”

“ _Fuck_ yes,” Miller says, and uses his hand in Bellamy’s hair to pull him down into another hard kiss. Where Monty’s kiss had felt soft and exploratory, just on the edge of sensual, Bellamy’s kiss is all force and bite with an edge of familiarity, like they’ve always done this or they’d always eventually come to this. 

Bellamy pulls away again and says, ever the voice of higher reason, “Shouldn’t we wait for Monty? Since we’re deciding to date one another—”

Miller is still stunned by Bellamy’s kiss, and the English major part of him is also aware that Bellamy correctly used _one another_ instead of _each other_. He grasps Bellamy’s shirt and twists in his fingers. 

“We’ve both been with Monty before,” he says. “Let’s have just—one night, where it’s us, where—” and Bellamy rushes out a, “Yes, fuck, I’ve liked you for so long—”

Miller can’t reply except to make a noise of agreement into Bellamy’s mouth, and then he says, “I’ve— _longer_ —” when they part between kisses. 

“It’s not a competition,” Bellamy mutters, pushing Miller down on the bed.

“I’m _bitter_ ,” Miller says, complying by pulling Bellamy down with him, but when Bellamy kisses him again, there’s not a single thing he can complain about. 

\--

The last thing Miller had texted Monty was:

> _alright, see you soon_

and Monty had replied:

♥ ♥ 

to which, when Miller sees it, Miller says, “Fuck.”

Bellamy says from where he’s sitting at his desk, “We’re gonna be fine.” 

“We’re already using the couple _we_ ,” Miller says miserably, then shakes himself and begins to text Monty. 

> _hey, can you come over today?_

why?

> _we need to talk._  
>  I mean, i’d like to talk, figure  
>  some things out  
> 

hmmmmmm can i get food for my efforts?

> _jobi’s good for you?_

yes. i can be there @ two

Miller says 

> _alright, see you soon_

and realizes it’s the same thing that he’d written before they’d ended things.

“Fuck,” Miller says again.

“He’s not coming?” Bellamy asks. 

“He’s coming,” Miller says. “He wants Jobi’s in return for talking.”

“Did you mention the _us_ thing?”

“No! What would you have me say, _Hey Monty, how about a side of polyamory with your burger_?” 

“I mean, we’re basically doing that anyways.” 

“Bellamy. Not helping.” 

Bellamy stands from the desk, makes his way over to Miller, and presses a firm kiss to Miller’s mouth. Miller can feel his panic deflate a little.

Bellamy pulls away, but Miller hooks his fingers into Bellamy’s shirt and says, “Mmm, that _is_ helping.” Bellamy grins and kisses him again. 

They haven’t really talked about what they’re going to do if Monty says no. Miller doesn’t think he’d break up with Bellamy, but he also knows that he doesn’t really wanna do this without Monty. Or—he knows that he really wants to do this with Monty, Monty and Bellamy, he wants to try out polyamory and he wants it to _work_. 

He knows he and Bellamy would be happy together if Monty didn’t agree, but Miller would always feel wistful and regretful about it too. 

Miller offers to get the burgers from Jobi, an on-school restaurant, because he needs to move around or he’ll lost it. Bellamy seems to recognize this; he lets Miller go with a, “Don’t displace your worry on some random person, Nate, okay?”

Miller rolls his eyes, but he’s thankful for it anyway. 

Monty texts them when he’s coming up the elevator—apparently he followed some kid into the building—and Miller feels a tension in his gut he hasn’t felt before. 

It’s almost comedic the way Bellamy perches on his bed and waits as Miller opens up the door at Monty’s knock. He and Bellamy share a look and reassuring smiles and Miller opens up the door.

“I can already smell Jobi and I’m excited,” Monty says, the first words they’ve said to each other in ages, and Miller almost rolls his eyes except for the way his heart seems to be throbbing. Then Monty notices Bellamy sitting expectantly on the bed, pales, and he turns and warily watches Miller close the door. “What is _Bellamy_ doing here? Is this an intervention?”

Miller snorts, going to sit on his own bed. “No, I really did want to talk. Or—”

“ _We_ wanted to talk,” Bellamy says.

“That fucking we again,” Miller says, exchanging a fond glance with Bellamy. 

Monty has halted in his place by the doorway, his shoulders hunching forward in a manner that’s almost defensive. “This is scary,” Monty says. “I’m pretty sure I’ve had this dream before. It starts out like this and ends really well, or it starts out like this and ends with me being beaten up.”

“Beaten up?” says Bellamy with a frown.

“Both of you look like you played football in high school. I was conditioned to fear football guys. _Definitely_ had that dream before.”

“Alright, well, let’s say that we wanted to focus on the former dream rather than the latter,” Bellamy says. 

Monty has finally located the Jobi and he takes the burger out of the bag. “Former dream?”

“The one that starts out like this and ends really well,” Miller prompts. 

Monty looks between them, his hands dropping the Jobi burger back into the bag. “What’s going on here,” he finally says.

“Monty, have you been aware that we’ve all been dating each other?” Bellamy asks. 

“Well, I knew I liked the both of you,” Monty says with a nervous laugh, “but I didn’t realize you two know each other, so. Awkward.”

Miller presses his lips together to fight a laugh. “Monty, we’re roommates.”

Monty pauses. Then, “ _What_?” 

“Bellamy and I are roommates.”

Monty points to Bellamy. “ _He’s_ the roommate you were lusting after?” he says, which prompts Bellamy to burst into laughter.

“Yes, he is,” Miller says with a laugh of his own. “And the guy Bellamy left you for was me.”

Monty’s eyes track between the two of them. “I’m guessing Nate is you, then,” Monty says, and Miller’s stomach turns to liquid at his name coming from Monty’s mouth.

“You didn’t even know his first name?” Bellamy says.

Monty says indignantly, “How is that fair? He told me he went by Miller, it’s not my fault he doesn’t like talking about himself!”

“That’s because only Bellamy gets that information,” Miller says. “Look, we didn’t exactly bring you here to laugh about the randomness and comedic genius of the universe in having us all date each other.”

Monty raises his eyebrow. “No?”

“We invited you here because we have a proposition for you,” Bellamy says.

“Or, you know, literally proposition you,” Miller says, to which Bellamy rolls his eyes.

Monty’s looking between them again, his eyes wide. Then he says, “Holy shit, this really is my dream coming to life, isn’t it?”

“Ending well,” Bellamy emphasizes. “If, you know, you accept.”

“Accept,” Monty repeats faintly. “Holy shit. I’m sorry, I just—need a moment.” He collapses into the desk chair and puts his head in his hand. 

“Take your time,” Miller says, leaning back against the wall. “It took Bellamy a while.”

“Fuck you, Nate.”

Monty laughs. He says, “Holy shit, this is happening, isn’t it?”

“Let’s hope so,” Miller says. “It’ll probably be a lot for us to handle and we’re going to have to define everything and talk about stuff that’s personal, but we can make this work.”

“You, communicating?” Monty says, and Bellamy starts laughing so hard he gasps for air.

“Oh my god,” he says. “I can totally see why you two like each other. Jesus.”

“At least we all know who will be the difficult one between us,” Monty says, grinning.

Miller makes an affronted noise and says, “ _Hey_.” Then, when he registers Monty’s words, “Wait— _us_?” 

Monty’s smile turns shy, but the corners of his mouth are flirtatious. “If you’ll have me,” he says. “If you’re really being serious.”

Bellamy stands from the bed and makes his way over to Monty, kneeling down and putting a reassuring hand on Monty’s thigh. “We wouldn’t joke about this,” he says, his tone genuine. Their gazes lock, and after a moment, Bellamy leans up slightly on the balls of his feet and kisses Monty.

Miller feels it like someone shocked him or dumped water on him—it spreads throughout his entire body. If his and Bellamy’s kiss felt familiar, the way Bellamy and Monty kiss is _definitely_ familiar. Their mouths fit together comfortably, sweetly, and Miller is hit with a combination of affection and envy and lust all at once. Miller has to wrap his mind around the fact that Bellamy and Monty have a history together in the five seconds that they kiss. 

Miller doesn’t realize he’s made a noise until Bellamy and Monty pull away and look at him. They both look a little guilty.

“Sorry,” Bellamy says. “We shouldn’t have excluded you so quickly. Should we talk about how we’re going to do this already?”

“I—” Miller starts, but he has to clear his throat. He tries again. “We—”

Monty’s mouth curls into an amused smile. He and Bellamy share a knowing glance. “You okay, or was the show too much?” Monty says.

Definitely too much, Miller thinks, but he knows he’ll be able to build up to more. He wants them to kiss again and he wants to kiss either of them, both of them, and he wants to curl up with them in the bed and he wants a drink of water for his dry throat, damn it. 

“Come here,” he says instead, his voice hoarse, and they do. 

Monty reaches him first, crawling on the bed beside him. He takes Miller’s face in his hands, says, “Celebratory kiss,” and kisses him sweetly, his mouth lush and soft, and Miller makes a wounded noise into Monty’s mouth. It’s been minutes since he’s kissed Bellamy; it’s been weeks since he’s kissed Monty. Bellamy makes a soft noise as well from above them. Monty pulls away with a laugh and a soft nudging of their noses before settling at Miller’s side.

Bellamy reaches for him next, giving Miller one of his firm, warm kisses with a hand curled in Miller’s shirt, and Monty says, “ _Oh_ ,” next to them, causing Bellamy to laugh into Miller’s mouth. Monty pulls on Bellamy’s shirt while he’s close to them, says, “Come on, join us,” and Miller’s pretty sure he can get used to _us_ for the rest of his life. 

Bellamy ends up spreading out on the bed, lying with his head on Monty’s lap. Miller is pressed against Monty’s other side. Monty has one hand occupied with stroking Bellamy’s hair, and the other is occupied by Miller’s hand. 

Bellamy is practically dozing off, and Miller has been rubbing his thumb back and forth over Monty’s for the last ten minutes. Monty’s smiling as he looks down at Bellamy falling asleep, and he turns his smile into Miller’s shoulder, pressing a small kiss there.

“This is going to be good,” Monty says.

“You know what’s better?” Bellamy says, his voice hoarse and rough with sleep. Miller and Monty exchange a look that basically says: _yes, I’m attracted that, and you? Oh, good, glad we’re on the same page_. 

“What’s that?” Miller asks, brushing some of Bellamy’s hair off of his forehead. 

“Miller and I share the room,” Bellamy says. “So we got rid of the whole awkwardness of having a roommate in the room while dating, because—well, we’ll have the entire room to ourselves.”

Miller laughs, turning his head to laugh into Monty’s shoulder. “All sex all the time, right, Bell?”

Monty takes in the room, and Miller can practically see the lust enter Monty’s eyes. “Oh, _god_ ,” Monty says. “This really _is_ going to be good. Holy fuck.” 

Bellamy laughs, his hand coming up to catch with Monty’s in his hair. Miller laughs as well, love welling up inside of him for both of them, and he pulls Monty into a kiss. 

“We are going to be fucking great,” Miller says, nudging his nose along Monty’s jaw. “The triad, polyamorous, partners _we_.” 

**Author's Note:**

> title is from Maggie Stiefvater's The Raven King!
> 
> [my tumblr is here](http://williamanderly.tumblr.com/) if you want to talk about this or monty/miller or anything else :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] three is the strongest number](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10665816) by [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery)




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